A Bloody Black Rose Strangled By Weeds Of Destiny
by Princess Bertha
Summary: CHAPPY 4 UP NOW! (a parody of all things fanfiction) Everyone and their uncle joins the fellowship, and Legolas sings!
1. Prologue: Return to the Light

A bloody Black Rose, Strangled by the Weeds of Destiny Prologue: Return to the Light (New Author's not added on 7/14/03. We'd just like to respond to many of our flames by saying that this is a parody. Everything about this fic is a parody. We're sorry no one got that before. Anyway, just remember everything from here on out is meant as a joke.)  
  
AUTHORS'S NOTE: This is a co-authored fic by two of the kewlest gurls in da hood! Plz R&R. Thanx, God Bless.  
  
RETURN OF THE AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic centers on what happens to the Fellowship after the Trilogy has ended. We have never read the Trilogy and this is the first fanfiction we've ever written. But don't worry, our psychiatrists say we write really good. ^_______________________^ I am happy and fat.  
  
KEY: *stuff goes here* means a character is thinking. ~stuff goes here~ means they are having a dream. "stuff goes here" means they are talking in English. (Stuff goes here) means they are talking telepathically. means they are talking in Elvish. () means they're talking telepathically in Elvish. means the character is thinking in elvish. Centered text means the character is singing. Bold means the character is yelling. Capitols means the character is screaming. Bold capitols means the character is whispering. Italics means the character is having a dream in Elvish. //stuff goes here// means the character is speaking in Russian. \\stuff goes here\\ means the character is dead and is speaking to living people. @stuff goes here@ means the character is singing a song in Dwarvish.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2.1: This fic is an action and adventure, romance with mystery, suspense, comedy, and angst. In this story the Elves didn't leave Middle Earth and Aragon is still a prince, not a king and Arwen is trying to decide if she loves him and there were 11 ringwraths instead of 9. Our main character is Tom Bombadil cuz he is the mac daddy.  
  
The piercing cry of the stillborn child pierced the midnight air. The woman lay in the birth bed, feeling her life blood slowly dripping away. The baby's body fell from his mother's arms and hit the ground with a thunderous crack. The mother shed one final tear, glanced at her loving husband, Tom Bombadil, and proceeded to extinguish her own life by wrapping the bloody umbilical cord around her neck and hurling it over the chandelier, hanging herself sadly.  
  
Tom Bombadil, staring at his dead mate and son, began to sing a sorry, sad song.  
  
"It is sad,  
I am mad,  
I wanted to be a dad.  
This is really bad.  
My wife is dead.  
My son cracked his head.  
As he fell from the bed,  
I would have named him Ted.  
Man, my life really sucks.  
I'm going to kill some ducks,  
And stop singing."  
  
Thus ended the epic, mournful song of Tom Bombadil. *I should join the Elf army and protect others from this violent fate. Yes, I will stop the mindless suffering that the Dark Lord had imposed on the creatures of Middle Earth.*  
  
****  
  
Sweat glistened on the Human Prince's manly forehead as he raised his powerful sword into the air and brought it down onto the evil ork. He lifted one massive masculine hand and wiped the perspiration from his brow, surveying the land beneath the hill on which he was fighting. Scattered around the impressive male's black boots were the bodies of the orks which he had single handedly managed to fight off. His broad and manly shoulders heaved as he sucked breath into his large and powerful lungs, tasting blood on the air. His dark hair hung in streaks against his head, sweat and grime forcing the individual strands into manly clumps. Prince Aragon smelled like a warrior, and that he was.  
  
His powerful and well built chest heaved as he caught his breath after his morning excursion. Not as though fighting off four score orks was much of a challenge to the masculine fighter. Upon his glistening chest hung a silver necklace, which his foster-sister and lover had given him. While his entire body was encrusted with the dirt of so many battles gone unwashed, the necklace glowed with the eternal light of his betrothed. The well built warrior's thought traveled back to the elf princess whom he had not seen in many fortnights. ** the prince thought in elvish. The English language lacks words which can adequately convey the emotion of this thought, but the closest translation would be *my beloved, I will love you always.*  
  
The man's senses alerted him that there was still an enemy left to fight. His ears pricked at the slight rustling that heralded the advance of the horrific beast. Almost before our hero had time to react, the gruff swordsman was pulled to the ground beneath the beast. Aragorn struggled to pull the creature off, put to no avail. It punctured the prince's flesh with its massive claw, Aragorn's royal blood spilling out and dying the hill beneath him.  
  
With a grunt, the impressive fighter finally pulled the creature off his body. The terror-inspiring lobkeet flapped its green wings menacingly at the man. The warrior was staggering due to massive blood loss as the lobkeet circled him. Dipping his head to avoid the razor sharp claws of the dreaded monstrous foe, Aragorn dived, sword extended towards its vulnerable, exposed underbelly. Thrusting his sword upward, he was oblivious to the fact that the lobkeet was poised, ready to deal its fatal blow. As he wrenched his mighty weapon upward, he caught the barest flash of movement, and spun, just in time to avoid the creature's dagger-like talons from ripping out his fragile human heart, and sadly sacrificing his left arm in the process.  
  
Aragorn let out a feral cry as his left arm hung by a thin sinew of manflesh. Filled to the brim with burning rage, Aragorn dove at the lobkeet. His impressive muscles rippling in the morning light, he mercilessly smote the bloodthirsty mutant hybrid lobster parakeet.  
  
"Curse you demon!" Aragorn bellowed at the fallen creature. His left arm lay against his body, utterly useless, still attached by only a thin strip of flesh. He would not cry, even though there was none to see the tears. No, the human prince would not cry over the loss of such an appendage. He was still a warrior, was he not?  
  
Then doubt entered the brooding prince. He was useless now, not fit for anything. What would the Evenstar say when she saw what he had been reduced to? There was nothing left for him now. He knew what happened to warriors who were disgraced in such an un-honorable way. Surely now Arwen would refuse to marry him. Surely now she would not bed him.  
  
There was only one thing left for him to do.  
  
* * *  
  
The tall, slender, curvaceous woman paced the dark and shadowy room, her high heeled boots clicking softly against the deep black granite floor. She raised one petite, delicate and feminine hand to wipe a strand of waist length onyx hair away from her blood red eyes. It was said that she was almost as beautiful as she was deadly. The one known as Black Angel licked her black lips while staring out the window at her kingdom. Her red orbs gazed about the black charred earth below. On her lips was this: "Dead and beautiful beyond all conception." She had wings, but they were great and black as the wings of a mournful and solitary raven. They were bandaged too, healing from too many fights with her sister. Upon her petit body was wrapped black silk in the form of a black dress, complete with onyx lace. She held a glass of blood red wine.  
  
The sound of birds chirping happily and a brook bubbling over smooth rocks awoke the sleeping beauty of a woman. Her delicate purple eyes opened slowly, and she batted her long, feminine eyelashes. The young elven princess wandered out of her open bedroom engraved with symbols of long ago onto the balcony which jutted from her room and looked over the picturesque river which ran through this kingdom. She appeared to be no more then a teenager, when in reality she was as old as the earth she stood on.  
  
Princess Venus was jolted out of her quiet meditation by a strong sensation in her skull. She knew immediately who it was. There was only one other creature in the universe who's telepathic bond to the evish maiden was this strong.  
  
"Black Angel" Venus breathed quietly.  
  
A thousand miles away, her twin answered her. (Hello, pathetic woman) she said, her black dress swishing around her feet as she walked away from her fortress window.  
  
(What do you want?) Coming from any other woman this would have sounded cruel, but no words uttered from Princess Venus's lips could have been harmful or harsh. Not so with her sister.  
  
(You know damned well what it is.) Princess Black Angel snapped. Her red eyes were glowing intensely with impatience and she snarled at the room around her. Her long, luscious black hair framed her pale beautiful face perfectly, even in her rage. (The world is dead to me, as I am dead to it. You know this)  
  
(Indeed, dear sister)  
  
(And yet you will not join me?) The dark haired woman demanded.  
  
(You know that I cannot do such a thing. The world is far too precious to throw into shadows. The light of all that is good and pure in the heart and soul must live on. I know that you are angry, but think of the innocent children who have not yet begun to live before you condemn Middle Earth to eternal darkness)  
  
(Foolish wench. The world is already in shadows. I will prevail.)  
  
The two women were indeed sisters. Who their parents were they did not know, they could never remember a time when they were not just as they were. They each lived in isolated kingdoms, away from the realms of mortal creatures. It was said that if any mortal man were to look upon them he would fall madly in love and be unable to think of anything else save the perfect creature his eyes beheld. They were like yin and yang, these two perfect beings. Their names were so pure and in a language so old that they have no translation or meaning that mortals can comprehend, but in some legends they were called simply Venus and Black Angel. They argued now, and they argued always. But this was different. For a prophecy was written that said that a girlchild would be born into Middle Earth, one with the power to heal all wrongs. It was said that she was the sister of the Twins (as Venus and Black Angel have been called) and that she would be the one to save the world from the apocalypse. The legends were far from specific, but something in the Goddesses' (for that is what Venus and Black Angel were) told them instinctively to take notice.  
  
(Let us not argue again today) Pleaded the Light Sister.  
(You think of she-who-will-be-born)  
(Indeed)  
(Then perhaps on this one thing we can agree..) * * *  
  
Prince Legolas cracked one beautiful blue eye open in the early morning light. He let out an impressive yawn, and rolled onto his back, his wondrous blond hair framing his face perfectly. Then he realized that he was not alone.  
  
He turned on his side and stared intently at the woman who shared his bed. Memories from the night before flooded back to him. Her screams, his moan, their journey to paradise. But alas, Prince Legolas was saddened by this memory. No matter how many he bedded, no matter how pleasurful the love- making had been, he always longed for the lips of another, for the arms of another, for the.. Heart of another.  
  
"'Ay, honey, you 'wake?" the husky voice of Legolas' voluptuous bed-partner rang out. She twisted her sinewy body to face the Elven beauty, her supple breasts pushing against Legolas' chest. Snaking one arm around his back, she pulled his closer, probing every inch of his slender body with her own.  
  
Legolas's mind and heart longed for the one he loved, but his body craved this bar wench next to him. Her flaming red hair shown out against the white sheets on which they lay as he took her one last time.  
  
When he was finished, the youthful elven prince rose from the soiled bed naked and paced across the room. Donning his tunic, he left the rented room in the tavern to bath in the fresh stream waters outside.  
  
* * * 


	2. Chapter One: Slow Killing Legacy of Forg...

Chapter One: Slow Killing Legacy of Forgotten Power with Dangerous Venom  
  
Author's note: Wow! We got four reviews for our prolog. This is SO wicqued kewl! Thanx for all da luv! With out y'all, we wouldn't be able to do this wonderful ficclet. Much love, peace out, don't hate.  
  
Shout Outz: (If ya review us, we will give you a shout out in the next chappy.)  
  
Lady White Rose: Thanx for the review, we send our love to you. Keep reading and if you have any suggestions for our ficcy just let us know. Yah, po' lil' Ara-baby, we'll be sure to make sure only good things happen to him in da future, babe.  
  
Asarin: Hey gurl! We are so glad you like our fic and think it is gud and fun. Keep reading! We r glad you think the ficcy is original cuz it is and we came up wit all these ideas all by our little selfs. Whoze dis 'Hawthorn' person? Are they a fic writer too? Sweet deal, coolio.  
  
LotR Sparkling Pippin: We will try to space it out better next time, thanx for pointing that out. This is our first fic and we didn't know we had to use so many spaces between lines to get the ficcy to look right on ff.net. We are glad you liked our ficcy, and we totally hope you keep reading it.  
  
Karita-chan: Thanks for the advice, and we hope you will read our ficcy. But, BTW, Venus' great-nephew is Spanish and Dark Angel is half-russian, so we just wanted to give props to our personal heritages, yo. Don't hate.  
  
In this chappy we are going to sorta make it a song chappy. Lyrics are by Albuck Jenkins, whose Angel's ex-hubby and the father of Lil Albuck, whose Venus's lil son.  
  
************  
  
i In the end, it doesn't even matter,  
  
I've tried so hard and got so far,  
  
I watch the pendulum swing  
  
Everything you say to me  
  
Takes me one step closer  
  
In the End it doesn't ever matter  
  
If I am killed by the question like a cancer  
  
I'll buried by the silence of the answer  
  
By my self/i  
  
Gasping with delight when he felt the warm flow of blood running down the inside of his arm and pooling in hypnotizing puddles on the pure white floor, Gimli contemplated what horrors laid in store for him in the afterlife. It could never hold a candle to the misery he felt now. Gimli was contemplating suicide. He was depressed because he was the last of his kind. All of the other dwarfs of his clan, the Red Mountain Fist clan had perished in the Battle of The Lonely Mountain, where they fought the clan of the Green Monkey Kick. He had fought bravely, and had vanquished many a foe before he saw his own tailor fall before him in battle. Now, the once proud warrior was alone. Utterly alone. In brilliant flashes he saw his tragic life flash before his dwarven eyes. Brushing back a spiked lock of purple hair with a solitary finger with a solitary black nail with a solitary bleeding, red/black rose painted on it, he let out a mournful cry.  
  
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
*******  
  
Tom Bombadil trailed happily behind a manure truck as he made his way to the meeting headquarters of the Elvish Army. He had adopted a clever disguise in order to trick the elves into allowing him to join their roguishly masculine ranks. He had been traveling for a few days now, stopping every once in a while to scribble a song down onto a scrap of paper he carried with him always, one of the only two possessions he had now, other than the clothes he currently donned. The other was his late- wife's handkerchief, the very one she had used to wipe her rosy little nose on the day that. No, it was far too painful to think about.  
  
"You there! Halt!"  
  
Tom turned to see a lithe, beautiful man-elf standing before him, hands firmly planted on his hips.  
  
"Gentiles are not allowed past this point. The Elf Army is a very elite military force, we cannot take suck risks."  
  
"But, sir, I am an elf!" Tom exclaimed, throwing his arms out, beckoning for the elf to embrace him as a brother.  
  
"Your ears, they are covered," the man-elf replied, skeptically leering at the two fig leaves Tom had ingeniously pinned over his ears to fool the foolish and easily deceived and fooled elves.  
  
"It is true, they are covered, for I have been infected with. No, I cannot speak of it, you would cast me aside as my other elvish brethren have so heinously cast me aside like a dog. A filthy dog!"  
  
"Brother, please tell me! I will understand. Is it catching?"  
  
"No, sir, it is a curse. A witch-woman placed it upon my elven, elvish head when I accidentally ate her cat. Oh, woe is me, I become more un-elf-like with each passing moment. Soon, I will be reduced to a. To a. To a."  
  
"To a what, Poor Sir?"  
  
"I cannot speak of it. You will discover it all too soon yourself."  
  
"And you swear this is the case?"  
  
"By the gods above Middle Earth, I swear it! By everything that was once elvish inside my no longer elvish heart!" Tom forswore dramatically. Inwardly, he grinned. He never knew lying was such a sensuous power rush. Now, he was glad of his loose robes, concealing his growing excitement rod.  
  
"My Brother, I am sorry for doubting your elfishness heritage! Come, we will go to the commissary. I will treat you to an elven drink. But, tell me, friend, by what name may I call you?"  
  
Tom froze, for if he gave his true name, they would know he was not an elf. "My name? I am sometimes called. Bom Tombadil."  
  
The elf raised one paragon of an eyebrow in suspicion. "Bom Tombadil?" he repeated, "That does not sound elvish to my elvishly trained elven ears."  
  
"That is true, because I have adopted a more human name, due to my terrible curse. My real name was Bomron Tombadir of Mirkwood. Do you still doubt me, brother? I am beginning to feel insulted of your wary elvish nature."  
  
"Truly sorry, I am, Mmmm, yes, I truly am. I will ask you no more questions. Come, we will eat, drink and be merry!"  
  
*********  
  
Nonchalantly leaning against a lamp-post, his sinewy body stretched, open, inviting to the passersby, giving them an offer few could refuse. Irresistible he was, the once prince of men, now, a lone wolf, searching for his mate. Combing back a wanton strand of ebony hair, his dark eyes searched the faces of those who passed him, a look of unrivaled lust and misery glinting within his dark orbs. For his only imperfection that marred his otherwise divine body was the stump of an arm that his last encounter had left him with. Unable to be the mighty, masculine warrior he once was, Prince Aragorn was reduced to this. Although he hated himself for it, he had no choice but to be as he was. A beautiful, leather clad man-whore.  
  
Who would he be with tonight? His invitation was open to all. He only knew that whoever it was would not regret bedding with Aragorn, the former, proud Prince of Men and of Gondor.  
  
*********  
  
"I'm hungry!"  
  
"You're always hungry, Pippin!"  
  
"But I'm still hungry! And my feet hurt!"  
  
"I can make you feel better," Merry whispered sensuously to his love- hobbit.  
  
"Oh, Merry!" Pippin giggled, squirming beneath his lover.  
  
"Quiet, Pippin, Sam could hear us!"  
  
But Sam heard nothing, for he was outside tending to Bill the Pony. (But not in a gay way.) Brushing the knots and gnarls out of the sweet creature's mane, Sam hummed a happy song to himself. Meanwhile, Frodo watched Sam work with more interest than was customary for a heterosexual hobbit to display. Unconsciously, the poor boy licked his lips animalistically, wanting nothing but to feel that body riding him. But alas, it would never be, for Sam's heart would never be pledged to that which was like him. You see, Sam liked girls and while Mr. Frodo possessed many a feminine quality, he would never be able to satisfy Sam.  
  
"And another thing, Mr. Frodo, do you know what else I don't like? Fags!"  
  
A single tear trickled down Mr. Frodo's baby soft cheek, a marker of his heartsick sadness. "Oh. I see, Sam. I see now all too clearly," he whispered.  
  
"What was that, Mr Frodo?"  
  
"Oh, it was the wind, Sam. Nothing but the wind."  
  
Meanwhile, in the tent across the clearing, Merry entered Pippin with furious desire. The hobbit beneath him moaned in pleasure as Merry pleasured him.  
  
"I will always love you, Pippin."  
  
"And I you, My Sweet Hobbit Lord. Cum for me, cum for me, my gladiator of love. Yes, yes, just like that!"  
  
"Oh, Pippin, drink my love wine!"  
  
"Oh Merry, hit my internal love nut!"  
  
********  
  
Wormtongue paced the dreary corridors of the castle of Rohan, muttering to himself under his breath, his black velvet voice reverberating sexily through the hallway. She had gotten in the way too many times, far too often had she spoiled his luscious plans. No, it would end today.  
  
"Grima? You're out rather late."  
  
Turning when he heard the silken voice of Eomer, his secret lover, he brushed back a lock of freshly washed hair. "I enjoy the night, it leaves me in peace," he whispered, drawing close to Eomer, who responded by pushing him away hurriedly. "They cannot see us! If they find us, they will. they will. No! I cannot even think of what would happen!"  
  
"I understand, you are ashamed of me. I am not an easy man to love."  
  
"No! I would never be ashamed of you, my beautiful one, my glorious one, my Grima," Eomer purred into his ear, trailing a feather-soft finger down his paramour's cheek.  
  
"Call me Wormtongue," Grima purred, his watery blue eyes focusing heatedly on Eomer's chest. "I have hungered for you for so long. You left me hungry last we met. I can't wait to-"  
  
"WHAT IN THE NAMES OF THE GODS ABOVE MIDDLE EARTH ARE YOU TWO DOING!!!!!!????????!!!!!!!!??????!!!!!!?????"  
  
"Sister!" Eomer cried out, running to her side, practically knocking the unsuspecting Grima to the cold stone floor. He snapped his head up, hissing at the intruder.  
  
"You! You again! ALWAYS YOU!!!" he screeched, jumping to his feet and rushing at her. Fastening his skeletal hands around Eowyn's neck, the dark- haired advisor grinned a sick, twisted grin of grinning happiness. "I WILL END THIS NOW!!!!!"  
  
"No!! GRIMA!!! How can you do this??!!! She is my own flesh and blood!!!"  
  
Eowyn could do nothing to defend herself, save widen her eyes to a disgustingly wide width and claw the air futilely. "Pl- St- Er- Bleh!" she attempted to plead with the focused hatred of Grima, who simply applied more pressure to the petite neck he held in his creepy fish-belly white hands.  
  
"We all hate you, did you know that? Even your brother. He confessed it to me after we came in your bed. He complained for hours about you, your thinning hair, your screechy voice, your wide-eyed stupid expression, but he hates your spirit most of all. Filthy little whore-bitch-wench-slut- demon-fucker!!!!!"  
  
And with that, Grima dropped the body of the filthy little see above paragraph. Eomer simply looked on, his eyes a mirror of his dead sister's. "How could you, Grima? How could you!?"  
  
"Are you not glad, my pet? I did it for us. All for us."  
  
*********  
  
Cradling the two women in his enormous bed in his arms, young-looking-but- actually-quite-old prince Legolas sighed in contentedness. His two women lapped and kissed at his masculine neck, savoring the taste of old sex they found.  
  
"You were amazing, I've never had it that good," one of the women purred, her long pink hair falling about her naked, succulent waist.  
  
"Yes, yes, we must do this again sometime," the other woman agreed heartily, licking his lips while saying so.  
  
In answer, he only let out a happy sigh of happiness. He knew, however, that this happiness would not last and soon he would dreaming of his beloved. "Ar-" he moaned, but stopped himself from speaking that blessed name aloud. "Oh, Kallypso! Oh, Candi!"  
  
"Oh, Leggyloo!" they both groaned in unison, massaging every inch of his manflesh before settling upon his aching, throbbing, pulsing, grinding need.  
  
Yes, this wouldn't last. Soon enough, the Fellowship would be together once more. (But not in a gay way.) 


	3. Chapter Two: Shadows of the Mysteries of...

Chapter Two--- The Shadows of the Mysteries Of The Past...  
  
Author's Note:: Don't hate, don't hate, don't hate.  
  
Author's Note 2.2: We put up a website with WIQUED KEWL html and it has pictures that Albuck Jr. made for us! Go visit it y'all!  
  
Son of the Author's Note: We are glad y'all liked the song chappy that was the last chappy and we will try to make the next chappy as good as the last song chappy.  
  
The Author's Note Strikes Back: We don't want to name names or nuttin', but some of y'all been hatin'. Don't hate, don't hate. Flames will be used to light the Hufflepuff common room's fireplace. Yeah, we got access to it. Cuz we be badass wizards, so don't mess wit us y'all, or we'll go "FLIPENDO!" on yo' @$$!  
  
SHOUTOUTZ:  
  
LaDy_WhItE_rOse: Thanx again for the bodacious review. You rock our socks, gurl. You're off da heezy fo' sheezy! You da big pimpinest! And since you be our BETA and all, we r so glad you helped make chappy two a success!  
  
Draco's Girl: Hey gurlie, glad ya liked da fic. Draco is a fine mofo and y'all know it too! Word up, Hommie G, mah brotha. ******* Some people call me space cowboy  
  
Some call me the gangster of love  
  
Some people call me Maruice  
  
Cause I speak of the pomatis of love  
  
People talk about me baby  
  
Say I done you wrong, done you wrong  
  
Well don't you worry baby, don't you worry  
  
Cause I'm right right here at home  
  
(By Tom Petty) ******  
  
These were the lyrics that 'Bom Tombadil' wrote in his handy dandy notebook. He was angsting sorrowfully because he was depressed that his wife hanged herself with the umbilical cord of their still born child who was born with a piercing cry that pierced the midnight air. He was now traveling with the Elven army.  
  
*****  
  
Gandalf the Grey shuddered. He knew what was coming and he knew the price Middle Earth would pay if *it* succeeded. *She* was coming. To Middle Earth. And not even the Gods above Middle Earth could stop her. There was only one way to prevent eminent destruction. 'The Fellowship', Gandalf breathed, 'must be reunited.' Gandalf knew what he must do. He must send runners to gather the fellowship together once more. But first, it was bingo night in the old folks pavilion where Gandalf lived and he would be damned if he didn't get the first of that creamed corn.  
  
*****  
  
"They are coming."  
  
"I know, I know! We want them to come!"  
  
"Yes, yes, Master will return!"  
  
"No! Master is not our Master! Master was mean to Gollum."  
  
"But Smeagol likes Master! Smeagol wants Master to return! Master was nice!"  
  
""No, Gollum! Master was mean!"  
  
"Eggs. muusstttt eeeaaattt egggsss. BRAAAAIIINNNNSSSSS!"  
  
"SHUT UP!"  
  
"YES, SHUT UP!"  
  
"NO, DON"T SHUT UP!"  
  
"Such good boys, would you like a lolly?"  
  
"NO!!!!!"  
  
"BRAAAIIINNNSSS!!!"  
  
"Left Side is angry!"  
  
"Right side wants to play!"  
  
"SMEAGOL IS WANTING TO TALK! USE OWN VOCAL CORDS!"  
  
"Meesa Smeagol. Mmm, yes, talk you must!"  
  
The voices inside Gollum struggled for control, racking the poor creature's brain with insanity. Soon, it would be too late for Smeagol.  
  
"BRAINS!"  
  
*****  
  
Tom wandered the nearly-deserted streets of the riverside village that the Elven Army had currently stopped in. The few people that were out and about seemed rather wary of our fig-leaf clad hero. But, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the most sensual man he had ever laid the corners of his eyes upon. The figure simply stared back, his dark eyes mirrors of a tortured soul. What had happened to him, to make him so sad, but so lusciously, masculinely fuckable. But what was this? He was approaching Tom. Quivering, the elf cadet focused on the man and noticed that this gorgeous hunk of manhood had only one arm. But where could the other one be?  
  
"Looking for a good time, Sailor?" the stranger crooned, drawing close to Tom and trailing one succulent finger down Tom's well-developed chest.  
  
"I. Um. Er. That is to say. You. Me. Uh. You're hot."  
  
"I get that all the time," the strange man purred, "But for the right price, I'll be all yours, all night long, giving you all that you can stand. All."  
  
Tom flushed brilliantly. It was at this very moment that he realized he was gay and that his marriage to his darling wife had been purely a political one and that the child, most likely, wasn't his, because he'd never actually slept with her. Come to think of it, it was also half lobster! "How much will it be, Monsieur Sexy-Ass?"  
  
"How much you got, Sir Humpalot?"  
  
"As much as you need, Baby Butt-Lover."  
  
" Hey, you've got fig-leaves on your ears!"  
  
"I got 'em somewhere else too, Greasy-Haired Vixen."  
  
"Hey, that was mean."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
*****  
  
The cloaked rider rode as he had been riding all night, long and hard. He bounced in the saddle, which was quite painful, considering his giant erection. But it couldn't be helped, he was just so excited to see Faramir, the Great Farmir! The Great Boromir's Great Brother, Faramir the Great! This was just. So great! Slowing as he approached the strong-hold, the mysterious rider jumped out of the saddle and ran all the way up the stairs, screaming Faramir's name as he did so.  
  
"What's all this racket about?" Faramir, seated on a massive and impressively enormous, hard stone throne asked, a glass of ale in his massive, gigantic, masculine, manly, testosterone injected, hairy hand.  
  
"News from Gandalf the Gray, my Liege! The Fellowship, it is to be reunited, with you in your brother's place!"  
  
"How can this be! A spiritual oath was taken; only those present then can be included in the super elite Fellowship!"  
  
A slinky, vixen of a women slunk out from the shadows, her chestnut-brown hair glimmering in the torchlight as it trailed behind her like a train, only it was hair. Yesterday, the floor had been scrubbed, so Alexis had decided to let her beautiful, luscious, voluptuous hair flow free.  
  
"And who are you?" Faramir asked gently, entranced by her ridiculously enormous breasts, heaving beneath the velvet, silken fabric of her tight, form-fitting burgundy dress. He also liked her large crystal-blue eyes, but not as much.  
  
"I am Alexis Ravynwoolf Andromeda Athena Morrigan Falippa Verna Onomatopoeia Snowstone Thomas of Prettyplace Grove, daughter of Gwennyth Silvershadow Lightdance of the Starfire Shooter Sexy People Tribe, humble advisor to you, my Liege."  
  
"Oh," he said, while mentally he congratulated her on her back-straining bosom. Really, it reminded him of his mother.  
  
"I believe I may be of some assistance, your highness, for I have studied the ways of the sorceress with Lady Angeline Darkearth Moonflow, and I can summon the spirit of your brother, place it inside yourself and you shall become what you should become," she purred, narrowing her green, mischievous eyes.  
  
"I see, well, we'll do that tonight, then."  
  
"But the ritual is not without peril, I was informed of it by Princess Longhair Goldface Pasha Adrier, disciple of-"  
  
"I don't care," he cut in, rocking back and forth on his throne, hoping to get a better look down her dress.  
  
In a dark corner of the dark room, the dark hooded rider wept slowly to himself, for it was all too clear, Faramir was trying to get a piece of her booty.  
  
*****  
  
Hurriedly, Prince Legolas Greenleaf pulled on his khaki breeches and ran towards his horse. "The Fellowship, it's coming back together! I must ride to Rivendell!" he cried out, urging the horse to run. Before long he was almost at Rivendell, having ridden an elvish horse that ran as fast as three elvish horses, which, when converted into regular horses, ran at a speed equivalent to that of four-hundred and ninety-seven regular horses. Crying out for Elron, the blonde beauty hurried through the foyer of the palace.  
  
"Elron! The Fellowship! It has come back together! Ar- They will all be returning! Elron?" Legolas glanced around hurriedly. "Oh."  
  
*****  
  
Arwen threw down her silver-plated mirror, emitting a loud, piercing whine of a scream (similar to the piercing cry of a stillborn child). She was lonely. Her beloved Aragorn had not returned to her. She had last seen her beloved before he left to fight the evil orks that were invading her kingdom for no apparent reason whatsoever except that it made a nice plot point, and besides the orks had extra white paint and needed to do something with it so they put it on their faces and ran around naked and then invaded her kingdom for no real reason other than she was an annoying bitch who puts animal crackers down her panties. But they liked her father's music. He was a badass who got his animal cracker humping daughter into movies by singing songs with his massive, scary lips of Satan. But this is another story and we stray from the point. The point was Arwen was getting horn.er.lonely and missed Aragorn. *Te adviso Aragorn, te anucio Aragorn que hoy renucio a Aragron tus negociones sucios* The elven princess Morningstar thought to herself in elvish. A rough translation would be "Aragorn, Aragorn, where for art though Aragorn." She longed for her man-prince. But where could he be. No matter, for she had received news from Gandalf the White that the Fellowship was to unite in her father's palace. She would surely see her hunk of manhood then.  
  
****  
  
"Oh Gods above Middle Earth!" Tom moaned.  
  
"A little to the left, that's good for Steve!" Aragorn shouted, using his man-whore name of Steve. Steve McSteveland of the Steve Clan of Steveville in Steveco. Aragorn had always thought that Steve was a sexy name and had begged Arwen to let him call her that. She had said "I think it's just a little weird that you want to call me by a man's name." He responded by saying, "No, honey, Steve can be a nice girl's name. Now turn around bitch."  
  
Now, as "Bom" was releasing a gallon of his love seed into "Steve's" tight canal, both men were filled with happy bliss. Even though really Aragorn was angsting over his missing arm and his beloved Arwen and most of all, the loss of his Man-Virginity. You see, the Prince of Men had never done it with a man before. That's not to say he hadn't thought about it a few times before, and even fashioned a phallus of fig leaves for Arwen to wear in bed..and she still had never suspected he liked boys..she must have been distracted by the animal crackers down her panties. She liked the monkeys the best, followed shortly by the rhinoceroses. But we stray from the point once more.  
  
"I know we just met, but I think I am in love with you." Tom purred in Aragorn's ear, as Aragorn lay on Tom's manly chest.  
  
"Shhh. Don't speak." Aragorn whispered huskily, kissing Tom's lips to silence him.  
  
"Come travel with the Elf army, my love." Tom begged the beautiful man in his bed..er..army cot.  
  
"Of course. For you I would do anything. Even put animal crackers down..no.it brings back too many painful memories. I cannot speak of it."  
  
******************  
  
Legolas' feminine jaw dropped when he beheld the scene before him. He was standing in the front hall of Rivendell, preparing to speak with Elron. In the room, four or five elven men were struggling with Lord Elron. They were attempting to pry a pair of golden pinking sheers from Elron's grasp.  
  
"No! You can not stop me!" Elron screamed, his voice sounding strange.  
  
"Prince Legolas! Help us! We must stop him!" A pretty elf screeched.  
  
Legolas dived forward. "No! He must not cut his hair! It is our only hope!" he yelled.  
  
"I need the access codes!" Was all Elron would say, when they asked him later about the incident.  
  
****  
  
Sam was happily filing Frodo's nails while Merry stuck his tongue down Pippin's throat behind a rock. Frodo gazed at his gardener with a sad look of longing in his sad and longing eyes longingly and sadly.  
  
"What's the matter Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked. "Your Sam is here, your Sam!"  
  
"Sam, no, you'd never understand." Frodo said.  
  
"What is it Mr. Frodo, you know you can tell me anything."  
  
"Well, Sam-" He began, but he was interrupted by Sam.  
  
"Just a minute, Mr. Frodo. I should check on Merry and Pippin."  
  
"No, don't go behind that rock!" Frodo yelled.  
  
Meanwhile, behind the rock, Merry and Pippin stopped what they were doing in fear of being caught by Sam.  
  
"Why, Mr. Frodo?"  
  
"Uh..."  
  
Just then, Sam tripped on a rock. "GOD DAMN QUEER ROCK!" He screamed at the pebble. You see, Sam was homophobic. Plus he really didn't like rocks.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
She billowed through the decadent corridors of her oasis palace. Her name was Aurora Crystal Moonshadow, and she was what all of Middle Earth was afraid of. She had the power to destroy Middle Earth, or to save it. She was seventeen years old, and for the last seventeen years of her seventeen year long life she had been watched over by two women for seventeen years. (But not in a gay way.) Middle Earth would soon have to face the music.  
  
Aurora turned her sparkling pink eyes on her caretakers. They were none other than Venus and Black Angel.  
  
***** **************  
  
A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger, ya'll! Don't hate, don't hate. Plz review our lil chappy of our lil ficcy and we'll give you a shout out in the next lil chappy and a cookie from Albuck Jr. 


	4. Denial, it's not just a river in Egypt a...

Chapter Three: Denial, it's not just a river in Egypt and the Pizza Boy  
  
Author's notz: y'all, we're not putting out shout outz now, but we'll make up for it in the next chappy! Don't hate, don't hate. Thanks you all those who've been reviewing us, ya did real gud and we luv ya!  
  
We know it's been a long time, but we have just been so busy with Albuck Jr. Oh, and Albuck Sr. is paying child support now that that nice Mr. Springer man sent Steve over to kick his @$$! Peace out!  
  
*********** **** "I'm not the brightest crayon in the box  
  
Everyone says I am dumber than a bag of rocks  
  
I barley even know how to put on my own pants  
  
But I am a genius in Mirkwood!"  
  
Sang Legolas as he sat in the elven meeting room. Every so often his thoughts were interrupted by Elrond screaming "ACESS CODES" in the back ground, while the masculine elven soldiers tried to give him sedatives.  
  
"I am glad you're here, Legolas," said a familiar feminine voice by his ear.  
  
"Yeah, I'm glad to be here. Having just returned from the Wal-Mart in Hawaii."  
  
Arwen gave an annoyingly feminine laugh "Oh, Legolas, you're so funny. I can see why Aragorn likes you."  
  
Legolas' eyes lit up and he spun around quickly. "Aragorn likes me?" He asked happily.  
  
"Yes, he is always talking about how good you are at shooting arrows and he says he hopes he can get his hands around your bow one day, and he wants you to use his sword. And then he stated talking about Frodo's sword and how big it is, but I'm sorry, it seems kinda small, and since he's a hobbit I don't think he'd be able to pick it up if it was that big. And then he was talking about Gandalf's staff and how it isn't that nobly, but since it's made out of wood I think Aragorn is just confused." Arwen paused and looked thoughtfully around. "I don't know what his obsession with other guys weapons is about..that and his 'steve' fetish."  
  
But Legolas was so happy he wasn't listening. "My beloved, is it true?" he whispered.  
  
"So anyway, as I was saying, I am getting really lonely, and it would be nice if there was a MAN around," she said pointedly.  
  
"I know exactly what you mean," he agreed.  
  
"You know, a MAN that I could have sex with!"  
  
"yeah." Legolas agreed dreamily.  
  
"Because I miss Aragorn,"  
  
"I do too," said Legolas.  
  
"GODDAMNIT WILL YOU JUST SCREW ME ALREADY?!" Screamed Arwen  
  
"Yep, that's exactly what I am going to say to him when I see him."  
  
"What?" asked Arwen.  
  
"I mean, yes, Arwen, I will have sex with you."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * "I hate myself," whispered Gimli, cutting himself for the third time this week. "Snap, Crackle, Pop. There grrrrreat! Trix are for kids." (And apparently Aragorn.)  
  
Gimli was approaching Rivendell, and he would be there tomorrow. But he was taking time for some angst. Plus his lip was still bleeding from where he pierced himself. And his black nail polish needed touching up.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *** ** * **  
  
"Now free your mind," Alexis said to Farmir, her red eyes glinting in the firelight.  
  
"Yes, my mind is free," said Famir as he stared at her breasts.  
  
"See how far the rabbit hole goes." Alexis purred.  
  
"Yes, your breasts are big." Farmir whispered dreamily.  
  
"This isn't so great anymore," the hooded rider whined to himself. "Stupid Farmir the Great.. Maybe if I had big boobs he'd stare at me."  
  
Alexis put down her mary jane. "So, you guys wanna go do the ritual to have Farmir become possessed by Bormir?"  
  
"Can we eat first?" Farmir asked, eyes firmly planted on her chest.  
  
* * * ******* ***** ****  
  
Gandalf the Indigo was riding toward Rivendell.  
  
"Whatcha doin'? asked Saruman.  
  
"Nonya!"  
  
"Nonya what?"  
  
"Nonya business!" Screamed Gandalf.  
  
"You must be Jamaican!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Jamaican me crazy!"  
  
"Oh, come now," Gandalf said, "You're just bitter because I beat you at bingo."  
  
"I thought you said you wouldn't talk about that anymore!"  
  
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Cher?" Asked Gandalf.  
  
"Cher? Oh my GOD! I love Cher!"  
  
Yes, Gandalf was riding to Rivendell, and Saruman was coming with him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Where are you going?" Purred Tom, wrapping his arm around 'Steve's' chest.  
  
"I must go to the fellowship."  
  
"Why? Why don't you just stay here and have sex with me?" Whined Tom, er "bom".  
  
"Because it is my duty, as it is your duty to serve your people in the army."  
  
"What? Oh, yeah, because I'm an elf." Reasoned Bom. "Wait, don't go, you only have one arm and they won't love you."  
  
"Yes, it is true, that is why I became a prostitute. But now that I am in love with you, I have the confidence to return." Said Aragorn. "Plus there are lots of hot men in the fellowship."  
  
"That's it! I'm coming!"  
  
"O.kay."  
  
And so they set out for Rivendell.  
  
* * * * * 


End file.
